


My Song For You

by writtelings (some_nights)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2018-06-08 16:58:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6864856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/some_nights/pseuds/writtelings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A love story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I’m sitting at my desk, thinking, writing lines just to score them out again. It’s really sappy. I mean, which girl of 19 years sits at her desk, desperately thinking about writing a love song to the woman she loves, but who can never know? Almost as bad as all these cheap novels you love to read. No one knows I love you. And it should stay that way. Still, I will sing it to the world. Nobody will understand, and most importantly, you won’t. I already know the song title. Forbidden Love. Nope. Scrap that. It’s way too melodramatical. Also, me loving you is not forbidden. Just wrong. Morally.  
Damn, it was never that hard to write the lyrics. On the other hand, none of my songs were as personal as this one. At least, I’ve already got a melody. A happy, hopeful one, as gentle as you.

Oh, I will always remember the day we met.

I had just failed my math exam and didn’t dare to go home. I sat there, crying. All the passerbies pretended not to notice. And then there was a voice. 

“Hey!”, you shouted. I never thought you could mean me, but then you continued speaking: “Hey, you there! Yes, you! Crying girl! Yes, exactly you. Or do you see anyone else crying like the world just ended?”

I shook my head.

“That was a rethorical question”, you’d said with a gentle laugh. “But at least you finally noticed me.”

”What do you want from me?”, I asked, puzzled.

“I wanna ask you why you’re crying!”

I stared at you, eyes wide. You can’t just ask teenaged girls why they’re crying! That’s a question you ask lost kids who are searching for their mom, but not strangers sitting on the curbside. Even then, you seemed to know what I was thinking.

“Never heard of curiosity and love?”, you asked. Against my better judgement, I smiled. Never in my life had anyone been interested in my feelings, or at least not in the past 5 years. That’s why I thought you were kidding. Again, my face spoke for me, cause you just said: “You know, there are people on this planet who are just nice. They don’t want anything from you, just wanna make your life a little better.”

“Did you just describe yourself as nice?”, I asked with a raised eyebrow. 

You winked. “Never said I was humble! Now, what’s wrong?”

Till this day I don’t know why, but I told you everything.

I told you about my parents divorce, the fight for custody, my decision to stay with my mom, my dad’s disappearance, the way that changed her. How she grew colder, angrier, hit me. Cursed me for ruining her life and her luck with the men. How, with every new boyfriend, I became less and less important. I even told you how I sometimes cut myself just to get her attention. And then I told you about my failed exams. About how I had a black out, because I just had the most terrible day in my life. How it had been my birthday, my dancing queen seventeen. How no one had cared. Nothing had been in my head that day. So I hadn’t written anything down. And then I told you how I didn’t dare to go home, because she would throw me out.

You listened carefully. That had been new for me too. No one had listened to me in a long time. And when I’d finished, you hugged me. And I started to cry again.

“Would she really do that?”, you asked.

I nodded. “Maybe not if she was living alone, but her current boyfriend, he said he wouldn’t want any freeloaders. As long as I brought good grades home, he could see I tried, but now? I didn’t even write anything!”

“She is your mother! A failed class test shouldn’t determine if she cares about you or not! Also, she is responsible for you until you are eighteen.”  
Your beautiful eyes sparked with anger.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I mumbled.

You didn’t say anything after that. You gave me your hand, pulled me up and led me somewhere. I didn’t ask where. I would have followed you anywhere. You were the answer to all my silent prayers, my angel, my saviour. And even if I’d just known you for about an hour, some part of me already trusted you.  
You brought me to your cosy one-room flat. There you brought me some tea and a phone.

“So”, you said once I’d calmed down. “You now take your phone and call your mother.”

I’d looked at you with fear in my eyes, but you met my look with certainty and nodded. “You can do this.”  
I’d taken the phone and dialled the well-known number.

 _-Hello? Smith-Wilkins?_  
-Wilkins?  
_-Yes? Do you want anything? Who are you?_  
-I.. Uhm. I want to talk to Barbara.  
_-Babs! There’s someone on the phone! Some girl… Hello?_  
-Mom?  
_-Oh honey, I began to wonder where you are! You should have been home by now!_  
-Are you drunk?  
_-Not really._  
-Who is Mister Wilkins?  
_-Just some bloke from work._  
-Why did he say “Smith-Wilkins”?  
_-Did he now? Well, nevermind. Why do you question me like that? I asked first! Where are you? Why aren’t you home?_  
-Mom, I failed the math-exam.  
_-You did what?_  
-I didn’t write anything down. Look, I’m sorry…  
_-Why the hell didn’t you even try? Was that beneath the little lady “mommy-I’m-so-sick”? Who do you think you are? Think just because you’ve got a dead father you can do whatever you’d like? And I have to call someone like that my daughter…_  
-It was my birthday.  
_-What?_  
-The day of the exam. My 17th birthday.  
_-What about it?_  
-You forgot.  
_-Oh, quit whining. Everybody forgets something once in a while! And it’s not like your 17th birthday is important anyway._  
-He’s not dead.  
_-Who?_  
-Dad. He’s not dead.  
_-You’re such a baby! Just because you keep denying it, doesn’t make it any less true!_  
-He’s not dead. Just missing.  
_-It’s the same to me. I hope you didn’t think you were coming home any time soon. I’m sick of seeing your lazy, whiny face around poisoning the air. I’ll go to court and sue myself out of that god-damned custody. You’re 17 now. Old enough to take care of yourself, you ungreatful brat!_

She hadn’t hung up. That’s why I could still hear her and Hans.  
__  
“Who was that? “  
“Oh, just somebody that I used to know.”  
“Did they upset you, honey?”  
“It’s not that important. Now, where were we?” 

You took the phone out of my hands before I could listen to any more. I already felt the tears running down my face. And then I felt your arms around me. You stroke my hair and whispered nonsense into my ears about how everything was going to be okay. Like a mother.  
Because that’s what you were for me. A mother. And you probably think of me as a daughter. That’s another reason I can’t love you. Which girl loves her mother? When we met, you were 27 years old. 10 years older than me. Not that you look like it. Many people think we are sisters and when they do, we laugh. Would you still laugh if you knew my feelings for you?

One day, they just changed. Even the slightest touch sent a bolt through my body, and when we hugged a flame roared inside of me. It still does. But now you’ve got Sam. He is nice, doesn’t have anything against me, gave me my first laptop, helped me to find a job and tutors me. Especially in math. And he makes you happy. Still… I think I’m jealous. I would love to be in his place. I would love to lie down with you every night, hug you, kiss you… I won’t think any further than that. 

That’s the third reason by the way. Why I shouldn’t love you. I would destroy everything, your relationship with Sam, our little family. You gave me so much. Without you, I wouldn’t have a home, wouldn’t have the kind of family we three are. I can’t just destroy that with my feelings for you.

Nevertheless, my song for you is not supposed to be about that. Not about the hopelessness. It’s supposed to be happy, like you. What would you think if you knew that your new favourite artist was only a musician because of you? Even better, that she was writing a song for you? I smile. That’s something I can work with.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks later...

We are at your place. You moved in with Sam a few month ago. It’s quite the coincidence that you invited me just today. “Alice, look! There’s a new Karo Pepper song!”, you call. I smile and think: “I know” I still join you on the living room floor. 

“Really?”, I ask in fake surprise. “What’s its name?”

“Wait a sec… It’s _For You_. Weird. Normally her songs are all much less… Personal. Who do you suppose this _'You'_ guy is?”

“Why does it have to be a guy?”, I ask. You give me a surprised look.

“You mean my big idol could be… a lesbian?!” The shocked tone in your voice gives me a sting. Once again, you seem to read my thoughts, because you hastily add: “I don’t mean it like that. I mean, it would be quite surprising. Wait a minute. Alice, do you like girls?”

I was not ready for that question. But the way you look at me with your honest sweet eyes makes me want to answer.

“I suppose”, I just say. Because it’s not girls per se. Just one woman in particular. You. But I can’t tell you that. Not right now.

“Really? Wow, that’s a big surprise. I always thought you had a thing for Sam.”

“WHAT?! Why?”

“It’s those hot looks you sometimes give him…”

“Hot looks?”

My voice sounds sceptical and you laugh. 

“Well, even an open book can be misread.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, I ask.

“Your face is like a book, I can read almost everything out of it.”

I can feel myself blush. “Everything?” My voice is high.

“Oh Alice! Any dirty secrets in that head of yours?” You wink. “No worries, I won’t ask any further. Now, my newly outed best friendly sister, let’s listen to For You. After that we can discuss further if KP is a lesbian or not. Ready?”

I nod, even though I’m not sure any more. I think it wouldn’t be such a good idea to listen to that song with you beside me.

“I… I have to go to the toilet. But, you can already listen to the song, I’ll catch it later.”

I have to look really sick, because you shoot me a worried look and just nod. Then you press play. I hear the first keys. “I was splattered on the ground when you found me…” 

I almost run into the bathroom. You, me and the song in the same room? Bad idea. Very bad idea.

When I return, the song is over. You sit there and stare at your laptop screen.

“Juli?”, I ask. You don’t seem to have heard me. I go through the room until I’m just inches behind you. “Juli? What’s wrong?”  
Slowly, you turn around. I can see tears in your eyes, but the smile on your face tells me they are tears of joy. You were never more beautiful. I know I’m starring. But the sight of your glistering eyes and that warm smile is capturing. I move my head closer to yours. You stay. I want to kiss you. I really want to kiss you right now. But I don’t. Instead, I lean back slightly so our faces aren’t as close any longer. It’s not just Sam who could return any moment. I don’t want to take advantage of a moment like this, a moment filled with vulnerability.

“Alice, this song! It’s a masterpiece! It… It speaks to me. I almost feels like it was written for me!”

I feel cold. I hope I’m not as white as I feel. 

“Alice? What’s wrong?” You sound really worried. The joy that coated your words just seconds ago is gone. You try to feel my temperature, but for that you have to come closer. Too close! I try to move back, but you loose your balance and fall onto me. And that’s how we land. You on top of me. That’s not what I wanted. Really not. 

“Julie?”, I ask hoarsly. My body, so cold moments ago, is raging with a fire inside. I’m almost trembling of exitement. 

“Alice.” It’s just a whisper, but it makes me shiver. What’s happening? Why are you looking at me like that? And why are you slowly, painstakenly slowly, lowering your head? 

“Julie…”, I start, but I get lost in your eyes. I’m afraid to even breath, because the slightest movement could destroy this precious moment. I’m afraid not to move, because what’s about to happen will without any doubt destroy everything. I close my eyes and decide to take whatever may come. What comes is Sam. The door closes with a pang and the weight of your body is gone. I stay down, eyes closed and thank God for Sam’s return.

“Honey, I’m home! Oh, hey Alice. What are you doing on the floor?”, he asks and I can hear his smile in his voice.

“I’m not very well”, I say. My voice is a mere croak. “I think I should go home.”

I open my eyes and see Sam who comes towards me with the same worried frown you had ages ago. He feels my temperature.

“Are you sure you are well enough to be on your own? You really don’t wanna stay?”, he asks and I feel so bad. If this nice, caring man would have come a minute later, what would have happened? What would I have done? He’s still looking at me. I shake my head. I can’t spend a whole night in the same house as you, not with the knowledge of what we almost did. When I look at you, your face looks puzzled, hurt.

“Let me at least drive you home. That okay with you, babe?” You’re nodding mechanically, but shake your head immedeatly after. 

“You just came home from work. You deserve to calm down. I’ll drive Alice.” 

My blood freezes and at the same time I feel like I’m burning. What have you done to me? Why is the mere thought of being alone with you enough to lit a flame? I don’t know. But what I know is that I can’t be alone with you right now. Because if I am, I can’t guarantee for anything. I try to plead Sam through my eyes to drive me, but he has only eyes for you. The look he gives you. For that look, hundreds of women would kill. Me too. But not you.

“Thanks honey. I’ll take a bath, relax a little and when you’re fast enough you can join me”, he says. And then he winks. He seriously winks. I feel miserable. I get up and leave the room so you can’t see how I’m daggering your perfect boyfriend with shiny eyes.

The car is filled with an unconfortable silence. After a few minutes, we both try to break it. 

“About the thing…” We look at each other and laugh. I can feel some of the tension dissolve, and we both say: “You start.” 

We each wait for the other. I look at you. 

After a deep sigh you say: “About the thing in the flat… Look, Alice, I’m sorry. I was really deeply touched and… I don’t know. I didn’t really think. And I’m quite condfused that my “not thinking” lead to a situation like that. But… Anyways, we’re there.”

“Do you wanna come upstairs? We can continue talking there.” You nod and suddenly I’m relieved you drove me. I couldn’t imagine to let that moment hang between us any longer.  
Upstairs I turn the keys to the flat that was once yours. 

“Welcome home!”, I joke. “Do you wanna come to the kitchen? I want to make some tea.” 

You nod.

After I started the kettle, we stay silent for a while. Again, we start talking at the same time: “What if…”, I say. “Did you…”, you start. 

This time, I talk because I’m afraid if I waited any longer I would never ask and the question would turn into a song. 

“What if Sam hadn’t come?” 

You sigh and close your eyes. The kettle whistles. I turn around to let you search for the answer. You don’t say anything. Instead, I hear steps. I can feel you behind me and I know, when I turn around we won’t even be inches apart. My heart feels like bursting, beating fast. My hands tremble as they put the water into the cups. I’m afraid of what’s about to happen. I turn around. I have to lift my chin a few millimeter to look into your eyes. Your look is the same as the one in the living room. But this time, I can see a question inside of it. I look at you and hope you find the answer in my eyes.

And you do. The doubt vanishes and gives room for something else as you close the space between our lips. Fireworks explode when our lips touch. My heart beats like a bird hoping to escape. Your lips are soft. I lean into you. Yes! More!, everything inside me screams. And you answer that silent demand. You open your lips and your tongue dips onto my lower lip, like it want to ask permission. With a small gasp I open my lips and that seems to be enough. Your tongue goes in my mouth and touches mine. It feels like it just awoke from a dream and they start to play with each other. Volts of electricity go through my body. And suddenly, you take a step back. Before you are gone, I feel something wet drop onto my face. Are you crying?

“This”, you say as an answer to the question wiped out of my mind. I open my eyes and my heart hurts when I see the tears on your face. Without another word you turn around. You just want to go? After something like that? I’m shoked, puzzled, confused. 

“Juli.”

The only thing I can say right now. You fill my head, are my every thought. You stop in the doorway, but you don’t turn around. I’m waiting. 

“Did you want to kiss me after the song?” The question clears the fog in my head. 

I can’t lie to you, so I answer: “Yes.” 

Nothing else. There is nothing else to say. You nod slowly. And then you destroy my world, with three simple words: “Far well, Alice.” 

You turn around to give me a smile, despite your tears. And then you are gone. I hear the door and fall down. I cry, scream, shout. My world is broken. You are gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks later

I just published my newest song. This time it’s filled with heartbreak and hopelessness. Because that’s all I feel. I’m living like a robot, everything I do is on instinct. Nothing touches me. Not even the mockery of the others. What do they know about absolute, hurtful heartbreak? 

The only time I’m even close to happy is when Sam comes to tutor me. It’s just like old times. We never talk about you. But today, I just need to know. I can’t go another day without asking the question that has been eating away on me, so I blurt out: “How is she?”

I think he was just trying to explain integrals to me, but now he stops to look at me. I look down. 

“Like you”, he just says and then he continues. 

After the lesson, I ask if he wants to stay for some tea. “Why not?”, is his answer. 

And then we are in the kitchen. Just like you and me a few weeks ago. With the memories, the tears return. I try to hold them back, in vain. I hear myself sob once, shortly. It’s terribly loud in this tiny room. 

“Alice, what’s wrong?” Sam is now as close to me as you were that day. He doesn’t know what to do. I feel like I’m just reliving the same moment again. A déjà-vú. Just that it’s not you behind me, but your boyfriend. That thought makes me cry even harder and I turn around and bury my face in Sam’s shoulder.

“Shsh! Everything is gonna be fine!”, he says, stroking my hair. We stay like that for an eternity. Me crying, him comforting me. But then the constant stream of tears finally lessens.

“Thanks”, I whisper into is chest.

“You’re welcome”, he says in a tone of voice that doesn’t quite fit the situation. I look up, surprised. He looks down into my eyes, a tender look on his face.

“Alice”, he almost whispers and I know what’s about to happen. I don’t want it to happen! He is your boyfriend, your love, your happiness! But I don’t do anything, my limbs are feel like a puppet’s, useless by my side.

And for the second time in my life I get kissed. Again in the kitchen. But that’s where the similarities end. Your kiss, our kiss, was soft, questioning, magical. Sam’s kiss, this kiss, is the exact opposite. 

His lips crash into mine with almost brutal force. I feel my throat tighten. No! Stop!, everything inside me screams. I don’t kiss back, I don’t lean into him. I don’t move at all. But he doesn’t seem to notice. He kisses me like there was no tomorrow. I feel numb. This is wrong. It is not supposed to happen. His tongue forces its way into my mouth and feels like a wet cloth.

This time I am the one crying. Once Sam feels my tears, he takes a step back. 

“Alice!”, he says, and his voice says so much more. 

I’m still numb, silent. Again, I’m shocked, puzzled, confused. But no fireworks this time around. Only a tight throat that gets tighter with every passing moment and silent tears streaming down my face. Sam tries to wipe them away. Should I have done the same with your tears?

“Alice”, he says again. But this time he doesn’t stop at that. He continues: “Alice, I’m sorry. I don’t know when it started, maybe the first time I heard your wonderful laugh, but…”

“NO!”, I scream as loudly as I can. I don’t want to hear the words that would change everything, destroy everything yet again.

“Please”, I say, my voice barely a whisper. “Please don’t make this any worse than it already is.”

I don’t know if he heard me. He stays silent, but a slight frown develops on his face.

“May I ask you a question?” I am afraid of what he might say, but I still nod. 

“What happened that day Julie came home crying?” Finally a question I expected. Not exactly one I want to answer, but still. 

I gulp, but then repeat your word from ages ago, weeks ago: “This” 

Sam looks puzzled. “This?”, he asks, confused. He had his theories I think, but this was not one of them. It caught him completely off-guard.

“Yes, this”, I say, tired but firmly.

“This? The thing we did? You and Julie… kissed?!” Sam’s voice is filled with disgust.  
“I’m so sorry”, I think. Not for him. For you. 

Still I answer: “Yes.” 

Again this word, this tiny word of three letters, that destroys another part of your world. And it doesn’t care. I hate that word. Sam looks at me like I am a used tissue. “I never would have thought… Not you, especially not Julie. It’s disgusting. I’m…” I finally find the strength to push him away. 

“If you are that disgusted, Sam, leave!”, I say dangerously low. He turns around and goes. I hear him putting on his boots, his steps as he walks to the door and I think: “If this is supposed to be a déjà-vú might as well make it a real one.”

I say: “Sam!”, and cross my flat. He hesitates. I don’t. Once I see him, ready to leave, the door already open, I say three satisfying little words: “Farwell, Sam.”

He leaves without another word. And for the first time in years I’m truly alone. I don’t have anyone. I haven’t been in contact with my mom since she sued herself out of custody, haven’t had a sign of my dad in years. And my two only friends I first kissed and then lost forever. I probably lost my job as well, since I was working at Sam’s coffee shop. No chance of going back there. What a wonderful life! Well, at least I don’t have to worry about stuff to write about…


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some months later

I’m just eating my lunch by myself when I hear someone next to me say: “Hey Al! Do you know the new Karo Pepper song?” I look around, but except for the girl and me, there’s no one there. I don’t know what surprises me the most; to be talked to, to be called “Al”, or to be asked about my newest single.

“Yeah, I do”, I answer and try not to sound as surprised as I feel. “What do you think of it?”   
If there is one thing I love it’s asking people about my music. The girl next to me is one of my colleagues. After graduation, I found a new job at a bookstore and am now saving up for college. It will be a long time saving, but it will be worth it.

“I mean, the melody is nice, but I liked her old stuff better. Her last few songs were all really sad. Before it was more balanced”, the girl answers. Her name just won’t come to my mind.

“Maybe she’s going through a bad patch. I mean, she’s only human too and her songs are quite personal nowadays”, I answer.

“Actually, I quite like that. It somehow makes me feel like I know her, you know? But I don’t have to get hundreds of songs about how much she misses ‘You’, you know?” 

I don’t say anything. That’s a topic I don’t like to breach. You are still a sore spot, a hole in my heart that fills every single one of my songs.

“Whoever ‘You’ is”, the girl says with a wink. “She must be really sorry now.”

I start coughing, even though I wasn’t even drinking anything.

“Everything okay, Al?”  
I nod. I know that, to the careful listener it’s pretty obvious ‘You’ is a woman, but it’s still weird, this kind of double life, where people I haven’t even talked to know I’m a lesbian, which I am not even sure of myself. Once more, I am glad for the mask.

After that we continue talking for a while until our lunch break is over. On my way home I still wonder why Victoria - I remembered her name half way through - had talked to me. No one just walks up to me and starts talking. Why now? Deep in thoughts I make my way up the stairs just to find a man on my doorstep. He frowns down on a piece of paper in his hand before taking a deep breath and raising his hand to knock.

 

“Did you want to see me?”, I ask. 

The man turns around and looks at me strangely. After a few blinks, he answers: “Yes, if you are Alice Smith”

“I prefer Fragillio, but yes”, I answer with a small smile. The man does something totally unexpected. He closes the gap between us, hugs me, starts crying and says: “Oh my sweet little girl! I am so sorry, will you ever be able to forgive me, princess?”

I stiffen and don’t return the hug. But I also don’t push him away. There was only one man in my whole life who’d ever called me princess. “Dad?”, I think, but instead of voicing my thought, I gently push him away and say way calmer than I’m feeling: “Let’s get inside first. That’s better than talking here where all the neighbours can hear.”

It might not be a good idea to invite a strange man into my flat, but if he really is my father, I don't want to let the whole building know. I glance at him while I insert the key. He looks like him, or more, he looks like I think my dad looks. I just have my memories and I don’t know if they are that reliable.

Once we enter my flat, I say: “Welcome to my home. Excuse the chaos, I wasn’t really expecting any visitors. If you want to drink something, the kitchen is that way. Just take whatever you want.”

“It.. It’s okay. Oh my daughter!” ‘It is really him!’, I think, slightly freaking out on the inside. “Will you ever forgive me? I don’t have to ask your mother, she already wished me to hell. But… I didn’t hear anything from you during my time in jail.”

To say I am confused might be a slight understatement. “Jail? Wished you to hell? What are you talking about?”

“You don’t know?”, he asks with a confused frown.

“Don’t know what?”, I ask back, my voice getting louder.

“What happened after you left me.”

“You are blaming ME? What the hell?”, I explode.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, just looks at me. Then he answers: “I am in no way blaming you. It’s just the point where everything started. After your mother and I got the divorce and you moved in with her, I just… lost it. It’s no excuse for the things I did, because I did some pretty bad things. Things I am not proud of. And for these things I was sentenced to 15 years in jail. I wrote letter upon letter to you, though there was never any answer. No one visited me, not you, not your mom. Until that one day, it must have been around the time you were seventeen. Babs came and screamed at me, that I ruined you, that even with her hardest efforts, I still somehow managed to destroy you. I was worried, but there was nothing I could do. And…” He stops talking when he sees my tears. “Alice?”, he asks concerned.

“THAT BITCH!”, I shout, tears running down my face. “That lousy scumback! Fucking liar!”

I can imagine the look on your face would have matched the one dad is giving me. Shocked, mostly, mixed with something else.

“What? Who?”, he asks.

I close my eyes for a second, and as almost every time I see your face burned into my eyelids. This time though, I take strength from it. I take a deep breath and start talking. I tell him the whole story, everything.

How my mother abused me, how I started to cut myself as a form of stress relieve, how I failed math, met you, moved in with you. The courtroom, where my mother fought with teeth and claws not to be held responsible, where she won, because her newest boyfriend had good lawyers. How we haven't talked since. How you encouraged me to practise music, how I put my overdwelling feelings into these songs, which I uploaded under the name Karo Pepper. How I fell in love with you, how you met Sam one day, how you two moved together and I stayed here. The song. The kisses. The loneliness. But I can also tell him that I’ve been doing better lately, that I haven’t harmed myself even in my darkest hours, because I remembered the look on your face when you saw the scars and I put everything into songs instead.

While I talk, my tears cease to drop. He doesn’t say anything, just listens. When I finish, there is a moment of silence. Then he says: “Please never talk about your mother like that again.”

I don’t know what to say. I just told him everything, some things I’ve never told anyone and he just worries about my mother!?

He sighs and says: “I know you hate her, you have every right to, but please don’t use words like that. And I understand now why you didn’t want to go into the kitchen with me. I have to say, I am proud that I’m able to call myself Karo Pepper’s father!”

I still stare. He laughs. “I’m sorry, I think jail was not good for my social skills.”

I laugh with him and then I throw myself into his arms. “I missed you, dad”, I whisper.

“I missed you too, princess, missed you too.”

And for the first time in forever I feel like maybe, everything could be okay again. Even without you.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years later

With my father returning, life turned around. It was not him, not wholly. It was Victoria too, and all the other friends I made. Turned out she just thought I looked like I needed a friend, so she talked to me. She introduced me to her other friends and I fit right in. Still, where you have been is a whole in my heart which will probably never fully close.

On my 21st birthday, Dad had a surprise for me. I got a record deal. I don’t know how he did it, I just know that he was more socially talented than he gave himself credit for, because I could stay anonymous, which all the producers who had approached me before had denied. I had to shut down my website, though. Many fans were sad and disappointed at first, but after a while my sales where higher than my clicks had ever been. My mother and me have a kind of truce. I don’t hate her as much as I used to, she apologized for everything she put me through. But she will never be an important part of my life again. I haven’t talked to you or Sam at all, but even though my songs are happier now, every single one is still for you.

Today I’ve got my first official online Q&A. I'm very excited. I love my fans and their overwhelming enthusiasm whenever I release something new, so interacting with them is a dream come true. 

The first few questions arise under #askkaro

Q: What drove you to do music?

An equally easy and hard question. I type: “Many things. But mostly, it helped me cope with my life and everything that was happening. It still does.”

Q: Why are you called Karo Pepper? What does the name mean?

I laugh. I heard Victoria and her friends exchange different theories a to the name’s meaning and none of them were remotely right.

I type: “It’s not that exciting, really. Somewhere I’d read that, for your internet alias, you should choose your favourite food and favourite colour. Blue Pizza was taken, sadly, and I didn’t wanna be called Blue lasagne, but I don’t really have a second favourite colour. I then thought “Why not choose a pattern and a spice”, and because I was learning German at the time, I chose "Karo Pepper". Karo is the German word for checkered."

Q: Will we ever know who you really are?

I laugh. I can’t help it. I answer: “I don’t know yet, but probably one day. For now I enjoy being able to walk down the street without anyone recognising me.”

Q: Hey Karo, I love your music, it helped me through some stuff, so thank you <3 I just wanna know, and you don’t have to answer, but, are you gay?

That question was expected and I am glad that I finally figured out my sexuality, at least a bit more than before, so I type: “I'm definitely not straight. The only thing I know for certain is that I am demisexual.”

As I send the answer, a rush of excitement flushes through my body. I just came out. Nobody knows it’s me, but still. After today, everyone will know.

The next question, however, knocks the joy out of me.

Q: Hey Karo, does ‘You’ know who you are? And does she know you mean her?

I think about not answering that. The question is very personal and even though I write songs about you, I still feel like you are a special treasure in my heart that belongs to me alone and if I share that with the masses now, I will lose the last part of you that's still mine. But you are not mine, never have been. And these are not the masses, these are my fans, almost friends. So I type: “I don’t know if she knows, she probably does, she’s just smart that way and can read my face like a book.”

The next question is also about you. 

Q: Do you still love her?

I don’t know why I answer that. I don’t even really want to. But before I can help myself, I write: “I love her with all my heart, every fibre of my body aches for her. I miss her even after all this time and I think my heart will never forget her, even if I was to fall in love again. I would really like to know how she is doing and if she ever felt the same.”

I can’t help but wonder if you are reading this. Do you know? None of the following questions touch that close to my heart, and I am glad. I couldn’t have handled any more questions about you.

After an hour I can finally close my laptop. Emotions are battling inside of me, I am filled with joy, nostalgia, pride and sadness. The bell rings. I frown. My Dad has a key and Tori or the others never drop by unannounced.

As I get up, I can’t help but hope. It’s stupid. It won’t be you, can’t be you. Not after all this time. When I open the door, it is you. Smiling as always, even more beautiful than I remember. I feel my knees go weak, my head feels like it’s floating somewhere I can’t follow.

“May I come in?” 

Oh my, your voice! I had almost forgotten the sound of it. Too overwhelmed to speak, I just nod and step aside. Part of me is surprised I even managed that. I close the door behind you. What do I say? What are you doing here? What should I do? You fidget your hands in front of your body and ask nervously: “Alice, are you happy or shocked?” 

I nod.

“Both?” 

I nod again. You sigh deeply and then you say: “Fine and yes.”

“What?”, I ask.

“Well, you asked and I answer. Fine and yes.”

“I asked?”, I say, heart fluttering in my chest, breath shortening. Could it be?

There is not a trace of doubt in your voice when you say: “Well, you said you love me. And then you said you didn’t know if… And the truth is, I do.”

“Fuck”, is all I can say. Because how did this become to be? It is like a dream, but in a dream I would know what to say. Or we would kiss. Because the first one is not an option, I close the gap between us, place my hands on your waist and kiss you. It is the second best kiss of my life. Maybe the best one, because this time, there are no tears and this time, you pull me closer and we kiss until we are breathless.

“Juli!”, I say and feel a grin as wide as yours on my face.

But then you frown a little, take a small step back. Your arms are still around me, when you say: “Alice…” I really don’t like your tone of voice. It sounds like there’ll be a big “but” afterwards. 

I lean in and whisper into your ear: “Please, Juli, let’s just enjoy the moment. We can talk during dinner, later, okay?” I can feel you nod. A second later your lips nibble my ear. I chuckle. 

“Who knew your ear lobe was ticklish”, you almost purr and I feel a warmth spread in my lower belly. You laugh and the whole world lightens up.

We take our time to enjoy the moment, to discover each others bodies with kisses and tender touches, with our mouths and fingers. I see fireworks brighter than any time before and more than once I say: “Juli, I love you”, just because I can. You always answer: “I know.”

During dinner, we say nothing. We just eat and enjoy each others presence. When we are cleaning the dishes, you say: “Alice, I…”

I don’t let you finish: “You are not ready for this kind of relationship? You and I can’t be together, because you are ten years older than me? Because I am a girl? Because I am like a daughter to you? Because you’ve got Sam?”

I see the hurt in your eyes, but I am not sorry. Maybe a little.

“I don’t have Sam. He left me and said: ‘I never want to see your sluty dyke ass again!’”

There are tears in your eyes and now I am sorry. Very sorry. “Juli…”, I say, but this time you are the one interrupting.

“Don’t you dare say you are sorry! Who needs such a homophobic asshat? But… You are right, we can’t be together.”

“Not even as friends?”, I ask. You shake your head, but your words loosen the knot in my throat.

“Of course we can stay friends! I want us to stay friends. I can’t lose you again, Alice.”

I ask: “Friends with benefits?”

You look perplex. “What?”

“Well”, I say, a slow grin spreading over my face. “We are friends, but with the benefits of…”

“Are you serious?”, you ask. 

“Oh come on! You can’t say you don’t want something like before again!” I feel a blush creeping up my face and the butterflies in my stomach are dancing wildly. You blush too. Your pink cheeks look so cute that I can’t help but lean over the table and place a fast peck on your lips. Well, maybe a little more than a peck. 

When I give you free, you say: “Alice, this is not a fair fight. I mean, how can I say no when you kiss me like that?”

I laugh and say: “I love you, Juli.” You laugh too and make your way over to me. You place your hand on my cheek and turn serious.

”Alice, you are the most precious person I know and I love you with all my heart. I just don’t want to break you. I don’t want to hold you down. You and me… It wouldn’t be good for you. You need to break free from me! I mean, how… Why…” You seem at loss for words. I just stare at you. Do you think you are not good enough?

I stand up and whisper into your ear: “Ditto”, before I kiss you and slowly pull you into the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Finished! Thank you for reading <3  
> I wrote this story a long time ago and know it has some flaws, but it still has a special place in my heart.  
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://writtelings.tumblr.com/) and also leave comments on here!


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